


You can count on me

by Florchis



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: Five times (and more) Daisy walks Fitz home and one time he returns the favor.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	You can count on me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Springmagpies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springmagpies/gifts).



> Hello everyone, second story in my collection of 2020 Valentine's gifts!
> 
> Written for the prompt: Walking the other home
> 
> Title- and general feel of the story- comes from "Puedes contar conmigo" by La Oreja de Van Gogh. Listen to it if you want- it's a lovely song from one of my favorite bands.

**_La vida pasaba y yo sentía que me iba a morir de amor_ **

* * *

“I didn’t need your help.”

Daisy looks him up and down- he is small, smaller than her even, and so scrawny that she is afraid a passing breeze might break him in half. ‘Don’t need help’ her butt. 

“But I wanted to help,” she says instead. Even at thirteen, she knows enough about how boys lash out when they are uncomfortable. She is not one to coddle them, but she feels a little bad for Fitz- she has seen him suffer through a lot and knows more than her fair share of anger. “Your science project was too cool to let them break it.”

His ears get red at the compliment, like his body turned all the blood on his tight fists to blush on his ears. It is a nice look on him, makes him look soft. She does not say that out loud.

“You… you think it is cool?”

“Everyone thinks planes are cool, Fitz, they are just morons!”

“Uhm.”

They walk in silence for a while, side by side. Fitz is holding his fully-functional scale plane with so much force that his knuckles are white. He looks shaken and troubled, and Daisy wonders how it is possible that he hasn’t learned yet how to brush off bullies the same way she does everyday- with humor and thin threats and a Tougher Than You attitude. She is ready to throw hands with them if it ever comes down to that, but it hasn’t happened so far. Might be different for him because he is a boy, who knows.

“I go this way,” he says when they get to the intersection that makes their paths deviate from each other. It picks Daisy’s attention that he knows her route too. Two years in the same classroom and they have never talked much but she has noticed him, realized he is shier than most. Now she is realizing that being shy doesn’t make him detached.

“How about I walk with you and you tell me how does this work?”

“Wouldn’t that, um, wouldn’t that be an inconvenience for you? Walking to my house and then back to yours?”

Daisy shrugs. The amount of freedom and free time she has because both her parents work too much and too late is something she is not willing to discuss with someone so freely. She wouldn't want to give the wrong impression: her parents love her and provide for her. What else could she ask for?

“I don’t mind.” 

“Okay, then.” Even though she offered, she wasn’t expecting him to say yes. Surprise makes her stay a step behind him. “Are you coming, Daisy?”

The afternoon sun makes his hair glow golden, and looking at him she can’t shake the idea that this might be the start of something good. 

“Yeah, sure.”

* * *

It becomes their special thing, walking together after school. 

At first Daisy plays it cool, pretends that she is going back home, but the facade crumbles down very quickly. Who could blame her? At Fitz’s house there is his mum, who makes them snacks and always finds something to compliment Daisy on: her hair, her clothes, her vocabulary, her grades, her good heart. At Fitz’s house, he helps her with physics and they argue over their assigned readings for Lit. At Fitz’s house, they play videogames and daydream laying on the floor of the living room and try to bake with horrendous results and confess each other secrets in hushed voices, blanketed in the soft light of dusk.

At Fitz’s house there is Fitz.

That is worth the ten extra blocks each way she makes every day, and it would be worth a lot more.

* * *

They day she turns sixteen, she walks with him but doesn’t come inside- there is a dinner planned with her parents, and since they have made the effort to try, Daisy doesn’t want to disappoint them.

Fitz has been in a mood all the walk back, and even after his mum goes back inside after giving Daisy a celebratory kiss and more cookies than she will be able to eat in all her life, he is still too quiet and brooding.

Daisy has already decided to let him be- they both know that not smothering the other is the way to go, though they are both terrible at putting it into practice- and she is offering her raised palm for a high-five when he blurts out, “Why didn’t you let me walk you home? It’s your birthday!”

Ah. The old discussion. She always gets out of it by bringing up all the things they do in Fitz’s house and couldn’t do in hers, and that placates Fitz, but it won’t work this time. Oh, well. She will have to tell him the truth, then. It’s not like she doesn’t want to, but she has been waiting for the perfect opportunity, and of course a perfect opportunity never arises.

Her half-high-five turns into a hand holding onto his, and his blue eyes zero onto the physical contact like a laser. It’s almost enough to make her ditch the speech, but not quite.

“Don’t you see it, Fitz? I walk you home, and get inside and stay until your poor mom has to almost kick me out. Isn’t it obvious why? Because I can’t bear to say goodbye to you.”

He didn’t look at her face until the last word was out of her lips, and the look in his eyes is inscrutable. Luckily, she doesn’t have to wonder about it for too long because in two steps Fitz is in front of her and one second later he is kissing her. 

She is late for dinner with her parents, but they see her dreamy eyes and her mussed hair, and they choose to not comment. 

* * *

Like the first time, this time they walk silently. They are not coming back from school, but the path they follow is similar. Even while they are leaving their feet wander, they take them back to known and loved territory.

Unlike the first time, this time they are holding hands. Daisy knows his hand must hurt from how much pressure she is using, but Fitz has not complained. Maybe one kind of pain helps to numb the other.

Like the first time, this time one of them is barely holding back tears.

Unlike the first time, this time neither of them breaks the silence.

Like the first time, this time they have to say goodbye at the door.

Unlike the first time, this time they hug in front of Fitz’s house. She holds his face in her hands and kisses his eyelids, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. She wants to absorb him in, hold him inside of her ribcage for the rest of eternity. Fitz returns the favor with his hands on her hair, his lips on her lips, and when they break apart he can not look her in the eyes.

Like the first time, this time Daisy walks away wondering if she will ever get to talk to him again. 

* * *

“I am walking you to your apartment.”

She was expecting him to say no, but instead Fitz only smiles. “Like old times?”

“Like old times.”

It’s difficult to not feel the deja vus while they walk side by side, even if it has been over a decade since the last time they did this. It’s only an illusion, though: the route is different, the destination is different, the city is different. They are different. 

But in so many different ways, they are the same, and both can be worth celebrating.

They talk shop for the first handful of blocks from the conference, but very soon the topic diverts to his mom and from there it’s a non-stop cascade of things they had wanted to tell each other through the years but always refrained. The foreign city and the fresh nocturnal air on her neck allow Daisy to be bold; the look on Fitz’s eyes and the easy conversation make her want to be bold.

When he stops at the front door of his apartment building, instead of saying goodbye- and Daisy can not stop thinking about other times they said goodbye, and not only the last one- he offers her his hand. And Daisy, who has lived through life without him happily and fully but still knows in her core that she didn’t want to let him go, takes his hand and walks upstairs with him.

They got a second chance, and she is not letting him go.

* * *

“I am walking with you.”

“Oh, come on, Fitz! We will see each other again in less than twelve hours. We have done a decade apart before- you can do twelve hours now.”

“No, can not do. I can’t believe we let Jemma rope us into all this bullshit about spending the night before apart making everything more magical.”

“Aw, you don’t want our wedding to be magical?”

“I do. And what makes anything magical to me is being with you, not apart.”

“You are such a dork.”

“If being in love with you makes me a dork, so be it.”

“Shut up. Just shut up. I can not marry you any faster than tomorrow morning.”

“Then just let me walk you.”

“And let you break the tradition of me walking you?”

“Let’s say we are starting a new one.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of LLF Comment Project, whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
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> This author replies to comments (but it might take a while). If you'd rather not get a reply, please add *whispers* to your comment.



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